


The Sun's In Your Eyes

by nhstoran (roadpath)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadpath/pseuds/nhstoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall always liked it the best when it was just the two of them down by the creek. The sun peeking through the tree tops, the sound of birds chirps mingling with the sound of water trickling against rocks and Harry's lips against his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun's In Your Eyes

Most people in Niall’s position would try to be striving for something better and bigger. If you asked Niall he’d tell you he was pretty damn content with his life. All of the people he had come to known were out of his life, off trying to make something of their selves; other than Harry of course.

  
  
  
“Why would you wanna stay here, Ni? Is it because of him?”

  
  
  
“You could’ve gotten a scholarship, Niall. You coulda’ made it big, man.”

  
  
He’d heard it all; all of it from his parents and his best friends (he didn’t really count them as best friends anymore, to be honest.) Was he supposed to feel bad for the way he was living his life? Maybe living in a house that was only a little bit over two hundred square feet wasn’t quite adequate. Or was it the fact that it wasn’t in the best shape? He had to make weekly visits to the hardware store to repair whatever was wrong with it. Last week it had been a leaky faucet and the week before it had been a broken window; Harry and he had been playing catch and well— let’s just say a certain curly haired boy forgot to catch. He didn’t mind, though. He’d always pass by the thrift store next door and pick up something for Harry. Harry was weird like that; he liked old knick knacks and dusty jars. Niall always teased him about how much he reminded him of his grandmother. Usually Harry would just stick his tongue out at him and tackle him onto the stained wooden floor. It’d hurt a bit, yeah, but anything to see that little dimple on his left cheek.  
  


  
Of course it wasn’t easy at first, just like everything else. They had to learn to get used to each other in the beginning. Niall and Harry had always been friends, ever since they could remember. Their moms would joke around about them practically being best friends since birth. It felt like that way alright.

  
  
  
Niall had been there when Harry lost his first tooth when they were five. Harry had been there to cheer on Niall in the box car race in which the blonde haired boy had gotten second place. Niall had been so upset on getting second place that he started crying. Harry had held his hand all the way to their little club house that was settled in the woods behind his momma’s house. Niall was there when Harry had the saddest smile on his face when he had baked Alison Smith a batch of cupcakes only to have her take them gratefully and run away from him without giving him a single thank you. Harry and Niall went home that day and baked some more cupcakes; which tasted ten times better, especially if you decided to scarf them down with beer.

  
  
And Harry had been there to share Niall’s first kiss. It had been down by the creek and they were both a little sleepy. Their lips both tasted like maple syrup and bacon, courtesy of the breakfast Niall had prepared them earlier. Niall had to stand on his tippy toes seeing as Harry had somehow just gone through some weird grow spurt, despite being a couple of months younger than Niall. And Niall remembered the sound of the water trickling against rocks and the smell of dirt and the chirps of birds. It was all very surreal.

  
  
  
Then again, the thought of you and your best friend falling in love with each other was a little bizarre and unreal as well. Harry was a good kisser, too. He did this little thing with his tongue that made Niall’s toes curl inside of his ratty Converse. He could write songs just about Harry’s lips; and he ended up writing them (they’re hidden away in the tin box under the bed, the box Niall’s grandmother had given him when he was twelve.)

  
  
  
He had always considered himself to be lucky and blessed; blessed to have food on the table, blessed to have running water and electricity. His momma always reminded him of that.

  
  
  
“The good lord has blessed us Niall; don’t throw that blessing away for him.”

  
  
  
Why did the fact that he liked kissing Harry and holding his hand have to make him throw this such ‘blessing’ away? It wasn’t like he had accepted it, but it wasn’t like he was going to be forced to throw it away.

  
  
  
He had suddenly realized just how complicated everything was becoming when he was on the brink of turning sixteen. This blissful life Harry and him had lived up until then was slowly slipping through their calloused finger tips. He wouldn’t say it all started when his brother found Harry and him kissing the garden near where the tomatoes were growing, but he wouldn’t deny it. His momma knew about how ‘different’ her little Niall was, but it was another thing having his father know about them. His dad was always a tough man, a working man. He ran the local butcher shop and always bragged about having the best cuts of meat in the only town—he had the only cuts of meat in town.

  
  
  
Having your father as the butcher made you seem tough and rough. You weren’t supposed to be off kissing local sweetheart Harry Styles behind the movie theater. You weren’t supposed to like singing and writing songs about your boyfriend’s green eyes. No, you were supposed to be tough and hardworking. You were supposed to know how to behead chickens and know how to plow crops. You were supposed to know how to ride four wheelers like the big boys and know every part of a cow like the back of your hand. There wasn’t time for you to have lovely words spoken into your ear while you lay under the stars.

  
  
  
So, when he had stumbled to the dinner table that night things were certainly…different. His father was trading secretive glances with his older brother and it was causing Niall’s stomach to churn. Niall just stared down at his plate, moving around the mashed potatoes around and around and around.

  
  
  
“Stop playing with your food, Niall. You aren’t eight years old.”

  
  
  
“Sorry.”

  
  
  
Niall’s dad just rolled his eyes and continued eating the hunk of meat he had prepared for them. They all sat in silence for twenty minutes because asking to be excused from the table was not a thing heard of before. That was the kind of thing that earned you a smack on the back of your hand. You could say Niall was raised by old fashioned parents. Nothing like how Harry had been raised. His mom had always encouraged him to pursue his interests in art and Harry had confessed to Niall one night that him mom was the one that gave him the courage to kiss him. Harry’s mom also made the best blue berry pancakes if you asked Niall.

  
  
  
Eventually Niall’s dad had finally decided that he had something to say.

  
  
  
“I don’t want to see around that Styles kid anymore.”

  
  
  
“What?” Niall asked. His eyes were wide, almost like a deer caught in headlights. He just stared at his father while his father stared straight ahead at the ruby red wallpaper.

  
  
  
“You heard me, boy. Don’t act like you can’t hear.”

  
  
  
“But why dad? Harry’s my best friend.”

  
  
  
“Do you want to go to hell, Niall?” Did he want to go to hell? Would Harry be in hell with him? He couldn’t go a couple of seconds without thinking about Harry. No matter what, he’d be thinking about Harry until the end of time.

  
  
  
“No, sir I don’t.”

  
  
  
“Go up to your room.” And without another word Niall went up to his room. He cleaned up his plate first; he didn’t need his father yelling at him for something that was even more stupid. Walking up the stairs to his room, he didn’t know what he was feeling. Was he sad? Was he scared? Was he angry? Maybe he wasn’t even feeling anything.

  
  
  
He remembered crying over the phone to Harry and telling him everything. He remembers practically seeing Harry’s sad smile through the phone when he told him it would work out somehow.

  
  
  
After that night, Niall’s father had their phone line cut and their internet disconnected as well.

  
  
  
Everything was just so hard. That was around when Niall could pinpoint the start of the hardships in his life. The rest of their summer was boring and nostalgic. He got to see Harry sometimes, usually when his brother was out trying to pick girls up and his father was out at the pub. He’d sneak down to the creek and find Harry sitting on a tree stump. As much as he just wanted to sit there and hold him, he was hungry for him. He knew that the twenty minutes there would be the last until the next time.

 

He kissed Harry like his soul depended on him. And they kissed and kissed and kissed until Harry checked his watch and told Niall to run home or he’d get caught. Their kisses were always sad and never left either of them satisfied.

  
  
Niall hoped that soon enough their sad kisses would be no more. The temperatures were lowering and the leaves were beginning to fall from the maple trees that were outside of Niall’s bedroom window. School would be starting soon and he’d be able to see more of Harry. He’d be able to kiss and laugh with him on the bleachers during lunch like always. Only, when Niall walked into school that year things already felt different to him. Usually Niall and Harry would go to school together, but his father insisted on driving him to school instead. He thought that maybe he was going crazy, but he swore on his daddy’s most prized hog that everyone was looking at him funny. Guys wouldn’t meet his stare and some girls blushed madly around him.

  
  
  
He ignored everyone like always, he was on a search to find Harry and just give him a hug. He knew exactly where to find him: the library. And Niall was right, he found him sitting on one of the couches with his arms hugging his legs to his chest. He looked a little sad, but why? Niall had almost had to restrain himself from running and tackling him onto the floor. Instead he sat down next to him with one of the biggest grins on his face, a grin that Harry had failed to return.

  
  
  
“Haz, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

  
  
  
“You shouldn’t be here, Ni.”

  
  
  
“Are you crazy? I wanna be anywhere where you are. Now that Greg and my pops can’t see us we’re free. Well kinda’ free, I don’t think I’m allowed to kiss you in the hallways.”

  
  
  
“Niall just go.” Harry’s voice sounded tired and his words dragged on for more seconds than they needed to.

  
  
  
“Why?”

  
  
  
“’Cause everyone knows about us, that’s why. And the more people know the more people snitching on you to your dad, Ni. He’s planning on sending you to military school, y’know.”

  
  
  
“Military school, what? Harry please, we haven’t had a decent conversation since July.” Niall still remembers to this day how sad Harry’s eyes had looked that day. He could tell Harry was genuinely scared for him. So, he didn’t say anything when he nodded his head. He didn’t say anything when he walked out of the library. And he didn’t say a word when he started crying the boy’s bathroom and miss all of first period.

  
  
  
Things didn’t get better, like he had hoped all those lonely summer nights. Instead, everything was worse. No one talked to him. Harry would pass him in the hallway and gently squeeze his arm. Sometimes he’d find little notes in his locker. Those were the things that gave him that tiny bit of hope and helped him get through each day. Soon he’d be free. He would be a high school graduate; something no one in his family had achieved. He’d buy a nice little home for himself and Harry; one near by the creek. A house that he could call his own, a house in which he could kiss Harry and make him moan as much as he wanted. Yeah, it would happen. His momma did say he could make his dreams comes true.

  
  
  
And that’s exactly what he did. He worked hard in school and wrote Harry three page letters every night that he’d slip into Harry’s locker every day. Sometimes Harry would reply to them—little doodles included. Most of the time Harry would just smile and nod at him in the hallway, a way of letting him know he’d gotten his little message and ‘I love you, too.’

  
  
  
The next time he kissed Harry was the day after graduation, when he told his father he was moving out. His dad had laughed at him; telling Niall that he’d never make it. That he’d come crawling back to him on his knees begging for forgiveness. He had called Niall an abomination and a “god damned queer in love with a curly haired fucker.” Niall still doesn’t know how he had made it through all of his dad’s speech without crying. He just repeating Harry’s name to himself over and over again in his mind. Harry’s name was always almost like a mantra to him. He left without saying a word, his father’s laugh and eyes prickled with hate on his mind. He didn’t know where he was going. The obvious answer would have been Harry’s house if he had been using his brain. He’d walked down the dirt road all the way to the center of town and sat down in front of the convenience store.

  
  
  
And maybe that day the lord had decided to bring back the blessing he had placed on him all those years ago. He was staring out in the road, watching the cars going by when he heard a familiar voice. Harry was staring down at him, a look of concern gracing his pretty little face. Almost as if on reflex, Niall jumped up into Harry’s arms. He was murmuring a million words a minute. A mix of ‘I missed you’ and ‘fucking hell Harry I love you so much.’ When he heard Harry’s soft laugh against his blonde tufts of hair, that’s when he knew he was going to be okay, at least for the night.

  
  
  
Harry’s mom had accepted him in with open arms. She jokingly told him she was counting the days until Niall wound up on her front porch again. She said he had been only a few hundred days late.

  
  
  
It was nice living with Harry’s family for a while, but after a couple of weeks Niall began to feel a bit like a burden. His mother always taught him that it was never okay to be a free loader and that’s exactly was he was doing, even if Anne insisted that he was family and it didn’t count. He only got to see Harry during the evenings seeing as he worked at the food market in town most of the week. Niall was supposed to be thinking about college and he was supposed to be planning his future during this time. The idea of college and moving away had gone down the drain when this whole little debacle had started only two years ago. Who knew people would get upset over two teenage boys kissing? Niall knew what he needed to do. He needed to find a job and find himself and Harry a nice little house; a little house by the creek like he had planned that one day.

  
  
  
He always remembered passing by the house when he was younger, but he never paid much attention to it. It was an ivory colored home with chipped paint and rusty shingles for a roof. It had a nice porch, big enough for two rocking chairs. It wasn’t exactly in the best condition and Niall realized why he had never noticed it. There were always trees and overgrown vines hiding it away from their view and it was for sale. Curiosity had taken him over one day when Harry was away from work and he had finished helping out Anne with the cleaning. He had hesitantly walked over to the house and saw a number on the ‘FOR SALE’ sign. He quickly scribbled it on to his arm with a pen and ran all the way back home, or his ‘kind of’ home as he liked to call it.

  
  
  
When he had dialed the number he’d come in to contact with a lovely little old lady that lived in town. They spent most of the time talking about her obese cat named Marigold and her favorite recipe for chocolate chip cookies rather than the house.

  
  
  
The little old lady named Daisy told Niall the story behind the house. She told him how her husband had built it for her a decade or so ago and everything for it had been ready. They had the plumbing installed and they had even paid a great fortune for them to have electricity, but her husband had always suffered from heart related illnesses and the poor man's heart had finally given out before they could move in. The story honestly broke Niall's heart and he swore he could hear her sniffling over the phone. He offered his condolences to her and she accepted them sweetly. When he had finally got around to asking her the price of the house she told him she was selling it for around three thousand dollars.

 

 

Niall felt himself let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in.

  
  
  
And before he knew it he was making arrangements to buy a house.

  
  
  
When Harry got home that night he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Niall to tell him that he’d bought a house. Harry was pretty mad at first.

  
  
  
“How are we going to afford it? My mom can barely afford this one! Are you insane? Do you have money? Niall, what the hell? God damn it, why do I love you so much? Christ, you’re an idiot.”

  
  
  
Eventually Harry calmed down and Niall explained everything. He told him how he had a few hundred dollars left and how he’d be going down to the creek the next day to start fixing the place up. He assured him it was going to work and that they’d have a place to call their own. And maybe they could get married in the backyard one of those days. The last line made Harry blush like mad and he just kissed Niall. They were going to make it work. The lord had blessed Niall again.

  
  
  
And somehow they did end up making it work. Niall and Harry didn’t move into their new home until a few weeks before Niall’s nineteenth birthday, but they made it work. It was worth all the days Niall woke up at dawn to go and clean the house up. It was worth getting yelled at by Harry for pulling a muscle in his back. His numerous bruises and scars were all worth it. All those late night shifts at the gas station were worth it. Everything was worth it. Anything to finally have a place he could actually call home. It wasn’t the pumpkin scented candles and dusty jars that adorned the walls that made it home. It was seeing a certain curly haired boy up to his elbows in dough in the kitchen that made it home.

  
  
  
They had decided to decorate their home with things Harry’s mom had hidden away in the attic and various little knick knacks that they had found at the thrift store. For the longest time it was just them, a couch, a lamp and a little dining room set Niall had found for fifteen dollars. It wasn’t like he minded at all, but maybe Harry had. He didn’t want him living like this. He wanted Harry to hold the world in the palm of his hand and call it his own. Right now he was barely even holding a single grain of sand in his hand. Harry assured him that he didn’t mind. He assured him that all he needed was Niall and a warm blanket at night.

  
  
  
Once they got their feet planted firmly on the ground their home was starting to really become their home. Niall had even brought home a cat he had found one day. He was pudgy and had gloomy looking grey eyes. Harry picked him up and held on to him, declaring his name was Stuart. Stuart didn’t do much. They fed him ham and milk and he was pretty much dandy all the time. Harry insisted on having them sleep in their bed (which Harry had finally brought over his mattress from home and about a dozen sheets and pillows.) Niall had firmly told him no, despite Harry trying to persuade him with kisses and tickles.  
  
  
Harry was the one that brought over the second addition to their home. It was piglet that was apparently named Louise. She was pink with the cutest little snout Niall had ever seen. Harry came home with her in his arms and little coo’s coming from his mouth. Niall had gone that night to the hardware store to buy some wood and wire to build her a pen. They had their own little family now, odd, but family.  
  
  
When Niall remembers everything that’s happened to him it doesn’t really hit him anymore. It used to over whelm him and Harry would have to calm him down, but now he doesn’t think about it anymore. He used to stress over everything in the past and how their future was going to be. But Harry had taught him to only take one day at a time and everything would be okay. Everything was okay. They were making enough money between the both of them to live nicely; Harry working at the fresh market and Niall performing every other night at a coffee shop that was twenty minutes from their little home on foot.  
  
  
“Do you ever realize how surreal everything is now?” Harry words interrupted Niall’s thoughts. He wasn’t going through every single memory that had been created in the last few years anymore. He was just sitting on porch with Harry curled into his side and Stuart purring at their feet. It was raining and the smell of wet grass was lingering in the air. Niall looked down at Harry and kissed his forehead.

  
  
  
“It’s been surreal since the day I first met you, Haz.” Niall said, pressing his lips to Harry’s forehead again. Harry had a blush tickling his cheeks now.

  
  
  
“Yeah, but who would’ve thought that we’d actually have a house together?”

  
  
  
“I always knew we’d end up together, Harry.”

  
  
  
“Yeah, but remember in the tomato garden? I felt like that was the point in time where everything changed.”

  
  
  
“I think it did, but hey we made it through.”

  
  
  
“Just like your momma said Ni, ‘you’re blessed.” Harry said, trying to impersonate Niall’s mother. Niall just shook his head as he tried not to laugh at the horrible imitation.

  
  
  
“You’re horrible at imitations Haz. Why do you even try?” Harry rolled his eyes and tapped Niall’s knee with his own. Niall grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him down the steps on the porch; pulling them into the rain.

  
  
  
“Niall, we’re gonna get sick!” Harry said, trying to suppress the grin that was forming on his face.

  
  
  
“That’s just a bunch of shit, baby.” Niall laughed as he wrapped slippery arms around Harry’s waist. Harry looked up at him with a shy smile and green eyes that were trying to say a thousand words. Harry just laughed and pressed his lips to Niall’s as Niall twirled them around in the rain; their toes pressing into the soft Earth and their hands pressed to one another.

  
  
  
The blissful life Harry and Niall had grown to known as children had come back to them. There was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.  
  
  
  
And they kept dancing in the rain as their hips and lips were pressed to one another. Almost as if they were one. Two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, but sometimes it just took a while to realize they were meant to fit into one another.


End file.
